


crackle

by fullmetalscully



Series: Royai Week 2020 [4]
Category: Fullmetal Alchemist: Brotherhood & Manga
Genre: F/M, Jealous Roy, Jealousy, Romance, Undercover, Undercover Missions, badass riza, havoc telling roy not to be dumb lol, roy being a dork
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-06-11
Updated: 2020-06-11
Packaged: 2021-03-03 22:09:13
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,886
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/24662827
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/fullmetalscully/pseuds/fullmetalscully
Summary: royai week 2020 - day 4: crackleroy provides over watch on an undercover mission
Relationships: Riza Hawkeye/Roy Mustang
Series: Royai Week 2020 [4]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1778677
Comments: 7
Kudos: 59





	crackle

**Author's Note:**

> because what else do you write when listening to mr. brightside? all rise for the british national anthem

The fire inside of Roy Mustang was being stoked steadily. It was bubbling just under the surface, like lava from a volcano, ready and primed to erupt so it could be released at any moment. If Roy listened closely, he swore he could hear the crackle of the flames. If his target wasn’t careful, the fire would be sent forth at full force. There would be no holding back, no letting up. This fire was struggling to break free. It _wanted_ to be free, and Roy was only half-heartedly trying to stop it.

The bastard deserved it anyway.

“That glass is going to shatter if you hold it any tighter,” a quiet voice warned as they slipped into the bar stool beside Roy. He glanced over sharply to his comrade, Jean Havoc, telling him to lay off. “Wouldn’t want to cause a scene now, would you?” Havoc mused casually as he knocked back a “vodka”. It was really water.

“Of course not,” Roy tried to reply smoothly, hiding his true emotions, but failed spectacularly. How could he relax while watching that gross pig of a man across the room grope his Lieutenant through the mirror behind the bar?

“Try to relax,” Havoc soothed, clapping Roy on the back like an old friend. Roy noticed him glance off to his left, checking on Breda’s position.

“Aren’t you supposed to be on surveillance over there?” Roy asked, tipping his head slowly to the right. Anything to distract from the conversation. It would prevent Havoc from digging a little too deep than was appropriate into Roy’s relationship with his Lieutenant.

“I sensed you could use a distraction.”

Roy huffed and took another drink.

“Look, I don’t like it any more than you do, but she’s a professional. Let her do her job.”

“I _am_ ,” Roy ground out. “I have no issue with her doing her job. When it’s like this though, it doesn’t mean I have to like it.”

“I get that,” Havoc agreed. “However, she won’t let him do anything she doesn’t want him to.”

Roy sighed. He grabbed his glass and tossed back another drink. The apple juice was decidedly _not_ strong enough for him right now. He needed something with more kick, but being on the clock, he couldn’t. The watered-down apple juice was chosen only for its resemblance in colour to alcohol.

“Believe me, I get it.”

Glancing over, Roy saw Havoc’s sympathetic expression. He didn’t want to acknowledge the meaningful look on his eyes. That would mean dread would become a lead weight in Roy’s stomach, and there were already enough emotions in there, stirring together to make an uncomfortable cocktail.

“I don’t like feeding her to the wolves any more than you do, but this was Hawkeye’s decision. We have to respect that.”

“I know that, Havoc,” Roy replied, slightly offended at what he was insinuating. “I’m well aware how capable my subordinates are.”

“It’s because of something else, isn’t it?”

That dread was back, despite Roy’s wishes, and was climbing out of Roy’s stomach to claw its way uncomfortably up his spine.

“Riza told me,” Havoc revealed softly. “Years ago. I’m not telling you not to care,” he added. “I’m just asking you remember why we’re here; to do our jobs. Keep your cool, and if the guy tries to get too rough then you can barbeque his hand.”

Havoc left the bar stool without another word, moving smoothly away to return to his position.

He knew. Havoc knew. Roy was aware Havoc and Riza went way back to the Academy days. Roy had heard often about how they’d helped each other through it. They’d become incredibly close. So, Roy surmised, it was just as hard for Havoc to watch Riza in this situation as it was for him.

The target’s massive hands gripped Riza’s shoulders tightly. His meaty fingers clutched at her skin hard enough that it looked like it may leave a mark. Roy had been tempted more than once to set that hand on fire. In response to something he whispered in Riza’s ear she tilted her head back and laughed. Placing a hand on his chest to push him away slightly, Riza scolded him with a giggle for his comment. Her hand lingered, playing with his tie that made Roy’s stomach clench. He only hoped she hadn’t played it up too much that when the time came, the target didn’t lash out at her. He seemed like the type.

Roy grit his teeth and took another drink, _wishing_ he could take a shot of whisky. Anything to help dull the flames of fury inside of him.

* * *

The mafia boss had left with his entourage, taking Riza with him. They slipped out the back door of the bar, exiting through the storeroom. Roy, Breda, and Havoc followed close behind, but posted up in the storeroom, watching out the tiny window at the exchange happening outside. If it were up to Roy, he’d be waiting by the door, watching from there, but this was where Hawkeye had determined they wait. If they were spotted it would be a nightmare if all these men tried to run.

“Come with us, little lady,” the man smirked. Sleazy was his middle name, apparently, given the way he spoke.

“Ah, I don’t think so,” Riza protested as sweetly as she could.

Roy was frozen in place as two of the boss’ henchmen grabbed Riza’s arms from behind. The man’s fist reared back, and Roy felt the air leave his lungs as the blow landed. His hand connected with Riza’s cheek and Roy was already sprinting.

He couldn’t hear anything. Couldn’t really remember how he got out the door of the storeroom, but he had. Havoc and Breda were right behind him, ready to jump into the fray.

“It’s not up for debate,” the boss replied as Roy burst through the door. The man gripped Riza’s wrist so tightly the whites of his knuckles were showing. He jerked his dazed Lieutenant forward so hard she stumbled, still dazed from the blow to the head.

 _Snap_.

Fire sprung from Roy’s fingers in a fit of rage. It exploded outwards, emitting sparks and crackling with his rage, which latched onto the mafia boss’ henchmen. They cried out in pain and surprise, patting down their suit jackets and trouser legs. Roy didn’t care. Not when their boss had lifted a hand to his Lieutenant.

His flames were a culmination of everything he’d been put through tonight, watching this mobster manhandle his Lieutenant. Personal feelings aside, no one treated one of Roy’s subordinate’s that way. _No one_. And he’d just had to sit there and take it, remaining idle just in case Hawkeye needed him.

It had been the worst form of torture.

And now, he’d struck Riza. He was going to fucking _pay_.

Hawkeye was freed from the men restraining her and she drew her weapon, shooting the mobster in the foot so he couldn’t attempt to run any further, like he’d initially done when flames erupted within the room.

Roy petulantly thought he deserved it. In addition, Roy didn’t let up on the fire. They burned bright and hot. There were _cracks_ and _pops_ sounding throughout the enclosed space, making the men panic.

Hawkeye backed up, gun drawn, and came to a stop beside Roy. A hand on his shoulder caused his gloved hand to dip lower. Havoc murmured it was enough lowly in his ear and Roy let the flames diminish, but he did it slowly.

“You all right?” he barked. Riza’s cheek had split where the boss’ ring had caught it.

“Fine, Sir.” Her reply was sharp. Oh, this guy had made a _big_ mistake. Hawkeye was _pissed_.

* * *

“You okay?”

Riza heard the question as she removed the ice pack from her cheek. She winced as the pressure lifted. Glancing to her left, she saw Roy leaning against the side of the military car she was currently sitting in. She’d been relegated to the car by a medic while the MPs arrested the offenders.

She sighed. “Yeah. All good.”

“That was quite a hit,” he mused. He rounded the car and climbed in beside her on the opposite side. “Medic says not to let yourself fall asleep for a few hours. Could be a concussion.”

“I know, Sir.” She’d already had this conversation with the medic, so softened her tone for his benefit. She knew he was only worried. However, personal feelings had no place in this line of work.

“Okay, good. Just checking.”

“That was quite a show,” Riza mused, motioning towards the scorch marks on the brick exterior of the bar. “That was a _lot_ of fire.”

“I had to sit there all night and watch that beast put his hands all over you,” Roy replied, face grimacing in distaste. At least he was shameless as he admitted it.

“Is that why the flames were so hot then?” she asked dryly. She already knew that was the reason he’d exploded and let go. However, he _needed_ to learn to let go of personal feelings and remain cool, especially when it came to her. He couldn’t jeopardise things for her sake.

“I didn’t get you, did I?” he fretted, dark and worried eyes meetings hers.

“No,” Riza shook her head. “I’m fine.”

“Okay. Good. Oh, also,” he added, turning in his seat so he was facing her fully. “Medic said you needed someone to watch over you tonight. Just to make sure you’re all right with your suspected concussion.”

The expectant look on his face was positively adorable, and it was endearing how hard he was trying to remain neutral.

“Oh, all right,” she replied, cocking her head to pretend to think of someone she could call.

“If you want –”

“I guess I’ll give Rebecca a call and see if she’s available,” Riza interrupted with a sigh.

Roy was silent. His mouth snapped shut and he nodded. “Oh. Yeah, of course.”

 _Oh, bless_. He looked so dejected.

“I just remembered,” Riza replied. She had to put him out his misery. “Rebecca lives in East City and no trains are running until tomorrow. Looks like I won’t have someone after all.”

Roy Mustang liked to put on the mask that he was suave and charismatic, a true lady’s man, but with Riza he was _clueless_. Always had been. She wondered how someone who’d cultivated a persona and reputation like that could be so dense. His face lit up like a child’s at Christmas and Riza could no longer hold in her quiet laugh.

“Thank you, for the offer, Roy.”

The use of his first name caused him to swallow as he reigned in his excitement – giddiness, was probably the better word – and schooled his features.

“Of course, Riza,” he replied softly. The timbre of his voice threatened to send shivers down her spine. She loved it when it dropped low like that. “It’s no problem at all.”

His hand slid over on the leather towards her. She gripped it and offered him a small smile.

“That would be lovely,” she added.

Because Riza could think of nothing better, falling asleep in his arms. She would jump at the chance while she had it. She had to be safe after sustaining this head injury, of course.


End file.
